Sand
by bisbon
Summary: Friends could love each other, right? Lisbon's having trouble figuring it all out. Post season 4 finale.


**Hi guys! I started writing this up after the finale aired. I never really got to work on it until now.**

**Spoilers for the season 4 finale, of course. And I don't own this show. **

**Happy reading! **

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It was possible for friends to love each other. After all, wasn't that what friends were for? Friends care about each other; they look out for one another. For nine years, the two of them had been friends. So why was she so conflicted over what he had said?

Lisbon had been questioning it all day, all night. At work and at home. Everything was a mess at the moment - with Wainwright dead and Red John gone, the CBI was in turmoil.

She was surprised that Bertram hadn't suspended any of them. Hell, she had been prepared for termination, and arrest. But none of that had happened. The reason as to why was a mystery.

Maybe he felt sorry for them. No, that couldn't be it. Bertram wasn't the sympathetic type. Maybe Jane struck a deal with him. No, what kind of deal could that possibly be?

She didn't spend too much time thinking about it, because her brain was already occupied with the other matter - the more important one. Every day she went into work and persevered through the chaos. In the middle of all the commotion, there was that one single thought that nagged away at her head.

He hadn't spoken of it - and as a result neither had she. They both thought about it constantly and they were both highly aware of each other's thoughts. But neither one of them uttered a word regarding it. They were both too scared.

The two of them had gotten closer since the ordeal in Vegas. Lisbon wasn't sure if it was because of the time they had spent apart, or because of what Red John had done. Perhaps it was both. Either way, she liked it.

She had grown a lot more protective of him in the recent weeks. She knew it was because she was afraid of losing him again. She didn't want to lose him. Recalling the six months without him, the time during which she genuinely thought he was in trouble, was enough to make her stomach churn.

She looked up just then to check on him, to make sure that he was okay. Just in case.

He was okay. She was okay. They were both at her house. It had been two and a half months since the failed Red John operation. She was curled up in an armchair, and he was asleep on her couch. She hadn't slept in her bed in a while. Jane had been staying at her house ever since he had gotten back. Lisbon had offered him her couch and he hadn't refused. She wanted to know where he was at all times - that was safe. He let her baby him because he knew it made her feel better.

She watched him as he slept, unable to fall asleep herself. The man looked troubled even in his sleep - his eyebrows were slightly knitted together and his mouth was set in a frown.

Long ago, Lisbon had considered him a friend. Now, she didn't know what to consider him as. Jane wasn't just a friend anymore. He was something stronger. She tried thinking of him as a best friend, but that didn't work either. Jane _was_ sort of her best friend, she guessed, but it still didn't fit the way it should. Jane was something different.

She had risked everything to help him. Her job, her reputation, her freedom, her _life_ had been placed on the line ten weeks ago. And she hadn't cared. She had had no second thoughts. She had been prepared to be fired, to be arrested, even to be killed because of him. And yet, she knew she would do it all over again if he asked her to. It scared her, how attached she was to him. But it also made her stronger knowing that she was not alone.

_"Love you,"_ he had said. That had been a while ago, but the words still rang in her ears like it had been yesterday. "Love you." Even after ten weeks of conflicted pondering, she still questioned it. And she was also questioning _why_ she was questioning it. After all, friends loved each other, didn't they?

Jane stirred suddenly and opened his eyes. Immediately, she wiped her mind clean. He wasn't an actual mind-reader, but most of the time he came pretty close. She didn't want him to know what she had been thinking about.

"Good morning, Lisbon," he said, still lying on the couch. "Is it morning?"

She glanced at the wall clock. "Technically, yeah. It's 2am."

"Oh." He examined her with tired eyes. "Couldn't sleep?"

She shrugged. "Nope."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Yeah it is."

"It's not. Go back to sleep."

He sat up defiantly, stifling a yawn. "I'm not sleepy anymore," he claimed, although it was obviously a lie. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing."

"Something is. Let's take a walk, it'll help you feel better."

She raised an eyebrow. "At two in the morning?"

"Yeah, why not? It might help you sleep better. C'mon." He got up and headed out of the room before she could protest further.

When Lisbon reached the front hallway, he was already putting on his sandals. "Aren't we going to change?" she asked, pointing at his pajamas and looking down at her own.

He shrugged. "Why should we?"

She considered it for a moment, but then decided she'd rather not go through the hassle of getting dressed. Following suit, she put on her own pair of flip flops.

Jane held open the front door. "Ladies first."

Outside, the late-July atmosphere was warm, but not uncomfortably so. There was a gentle breeze blowing that prevented the temperature from getting annoying. Crickets chirped happily, hidden in the tall grass, and the sidewalks were softly illuminated by the dim streetlights.

The two of them stood at the end of Lisbon's driveway, Jane leaning against her mailbox. "Where to?" he asked.

Lisbon made a face. "I don't know. This was your idea. You pick."

"Okay then, Grumpy." He pointed left, down the sidewalk. "I say we go that way."

They walked side by side, not talking for a while. The sidewalk was wide enough for the two of them to walk without bumping arms. Jane stopped occasionally to chase a frog, but caught up with Lisbon every time.

"So," he said, after the fifth frog or so. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

Lisbon didn't flinch. "Nothing's bothering me," she said with a smile and a shrug, attempting to mislead him.

"You haven't been sleeping very well."

"I guess I need to drink less coffee, then."

"You haven't been drinking that much coffee. You haven't been eating much, either."

"I'm fine, Jane."

He wasn't buying it. "You're not, Teresa."

He stopped and grabbed her gently by the wrist, making her halt too. She flinched at the contact.

He examined her with his troubled eyes, trying to dig past the tough front she put on and down to the truth. He cleared his throat and spoke unsteadily, which was unusual for him.

"You.. you can tell me, you know. I'll listen. I want to listen."

She gave him a smile, intending it to be happy. It turned out sad instead. "I know."

After a few more wordless moments, she broke eye contact and freed her wrist from his grasp. They carried on walking.

They were silent again, mouths still but brains whirring madly.

She felt guilty for making him worry about her, and he felt guilty for making _her_ feel guilty. She didn't know what to say to him, and he didn't know what to do. They were both broken and confused, still mentally exhausted from what had happened ten weeks prior.

Her stomach had fluttered when he had grabbed her wrist. It was the strange butterfly feeling that she rarely ever felt. She didn't know if it was because of her being nervous, or her aversion to such close physical contact.

She got her answer when Jane's arm suddenly brushed against hers. The butterfly feeling came back, tickling her on the inside. She resisted an urge to run far, far away.

It was him, then.

It confused her further, because she had never felt like that before. They had known each other for nine years - nine years of hugging, shaking hands, friendly arms around the shoulder, irritated punches. She had always been comfortable with him. Why wasn't she now?

Frustrated, she tried to ignore the thoughts, finding something else to focus on. She kicked at a rock as they continued to make their way down the sidewalk.

Jane tried to put his hands in his pockets, failing as he realised that his pajama shorts had none. Lisbon had attempted the very same action just a few minutes prior - she'd crossed her arms over her chest as a substitute. He considered doing the same, but swung his arms back and forth instead.

Eventually they reached the neighborhood park. The sign read "Closed After Sunset," but they mutually agreed to ignore that.

They climbed over the low wooden fence instead of walking a few meters down to the park gate. It was a humble playground - old enough to be made out of wood, though the swings were newer and made out of metal and plastic. There was a little see-saw to the left, and monkeybars to the right. The playground bedding was sand instead of mulch, and forgotten sand toys lay half-buried in one corner.

Lisbon pointed towards the swings, and Jane nodded in agreement. Sand spilled into their sandals as they walked through it, little grains crawling into the space between their toes.

They sat in the swings for a while before they talked. At first it was strange - they were both so grown up, with such complicated, grown up problems. And yet, they were sitting there in their pajamas, in blue and yellow swings meant for children.

Lisbon swung back and forth, enjoying the breeze that met her face every time. It was calming, and for a while it soothed her mind. Jane experienced the same effect. They eased into conversation as they swung, each one trying to fly higher than the other without falling off.

It wasn't long before they both did exactly that, landing crudely into the sand. Neither was severely hurt, but both were covered head to toe in sand. Jane was the first to laugh. Lisbon kicked some more sand onto him, giggling childishly.

"I hate you," she said. "My house is going to be filled with all this crap once we get home."

He sprinkled some sand onto her now-unruly ponytail and grinned. "Don't look at me, woman, you started it!"

"Did not!"

"Deny it all you want, I know the truth!" He flipped himself over and lay belly-down in the sand. "Now, let's build a sandcastle."

She scrunched up her nose at the idea initially, but gave into it and joined him.

Jane turned out to be a master at it, constructing a beautiful castle with many precise towers and turrets. His weathered hands worked quickly and effectively - while she could barely manage anything more than a disfigured block of sand. Eventually she gave up and sat next to him with her knees up against her chest, watching him and admiring his work.

It wasn't long before her eyes wandered away from the sandcastle and onto the man himself. His brows were furrowed in concentration, focusing entirely on building the castle. The streetlights touched his blond hair and illuminated it, making it shine. Sand was still all over him, clinging to his hair and his face and his clothes. Unlike Lisbon, it looked so _right_ for him, as if the man belonged in the sand.

He was still lying belly-down, focusing intently. Lisbon had the sudden feeling that he was building the castle for _her_, making it perfect to impress her. Of course she considered it a silly thought, but it continued to nag away at her head and then through her chest.

The thoughts that had been cleared from her mind on the swings came rushing back, more pestering than ever. _"Love you,"_ echoed in her head a thousand times, increasing in volume as it went on. She put her hands over her ears as if it would make a difference. It didn't, of course, and the sounds continued to ring loudly.

It was only when she admitted it to herself that her mind began to calm down.

Jane had told her that he loved her. She knew that he'd meant it.

And she knew that she loved him back.

Her mind went numb for a while, and she fought with herself over what she should do. For some reason she felt scared - like a coward. She was a coward, wasn't she? She hugged her knees closer to her, as if they would protect her.

He sat up and began to speak, gesturing towards the castle. Lisbon heard his words but couldn't understand them. Her mind was being cruel and she was starting to feel dizzy. She could see him staring at her, his eyes crinkled with worry. Her mind pushed at her and she decided to take the chance.

Everything seemed to stop as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Jane?"

It came out like a croak, weak and unsteady. She felt so vulnerable, and so breakable.

"Yeah?"

She was scared.

"Love you too."

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**I wrote some more to this story after that, but I wasn't sure whether to keep it or cut it. :x **

**Reviews would be much loved, thanks for reading! **


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